The Mystery of the Red Brick Road
by Elphie Bubble
Summary: For all of you who have ever wondered where that mysterious Red Brick Road in the movie The Wizard of Oz goes, here is the parodyful answer.
1. Butghuzie Sphinxy

This is my first parody, and I hope that you enjoy it. I only just wrote this bit a few moments ago and just wanted some quick feedback to know whether or not I should continue. Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** So, I don't own Oz, but I am working on buying the deed on Ebay.

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Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, well, in a different world anyway, a Munchkin was blearily waking to face the sun of a new day. As a Munchkin in the world that many of the people in our world refer to as 'Oz,' his life could be fairly dull. In fact, all he had to look forward to was becoming a farmer someday. Often, when working out in the cornfields, he would grow so bored that he would sing about traveling 'Under the Rainbow,' to visit some land of his imagination. It was a glorious land where things like, 'traffic lights,' 'bagels,' and 'plush bean bag animals,' existed. What these odd contraptions were or what their purpose was, he had no idea, but he spent a good deal of his time dreaming on them. In Munchkinland, he was an anomaly. He was looked down upo--Well, he wasn't really looked down upon, since he was six foot six in a land where topping four feet was celebrated with parties and lots of scantily clad women. Short women, but scantily clad all the same. Needless to say, he did not really resemble a Munchkin, but he was without a doubt one of them. Another thing that set him apart was his name. Countless people had struggled with the pronunciation and even more had muttered that his parents had obviously been smoking something when picking it out. A name so terrible, so awesomely great, that it had struck down more men than a rogue Rhino. (Or rhino. when they are rogue, there isn't really a difference.) Innumerable poets, newspaper columnists, and hobos had grappled with its difficulties, and I shudder as I think that I will have to type it for you within the next few lines to stop you from losing interest. His name was…well…it was…ok, it was…Bob. Bob Smith. Ha, I bet you were thinking that you would be able to pronounce it, weren't you? Well, I proved you wrong! No one has been able to pronounce it. Not even Bob himself. So, he just went by Butghuzie Sphinxy since it was much easier to spell and comprehend. Either way, his initials were still BS, which is possibly less of a coincidence than it seems. Anyway, on to Butghuzie, whom I will call Bob just to confuse you.

Bob had awoken to his mother, a Munchkin woman standing at three foot two kicking him viciously in the toe. He was rather too large for his bed, and his feet hung out. He was woken every morning by his mother kicking his endlessly bruised toe, since that was the highest part of him she could easily reach.

"Get up, Booeib!" his mother cried, stumbling over the name she had given him.

"I'm up, I'm up, Mommy!" Bob exclaimed, a rather juvenile expression for a man of thirty-five but then, that was Bob. Juvenile.

"Go help your father in the cornfield! He said something about using you as a lunchbox."

"Oh," Bob said. He was fairly used to being used as a lunchbox. He wasn't really good for much else in the cornfields. He was just going to have to accept it; farming wasn't his calling. However, he had always felt some inclination to musical theatre. He sighed and left the house wearing his uniform: a pair of long red Munchkin trousers that came just above his knee and a white Munchkin shirt that settled just above his midriff. He held the look together with gold-colored suspenders and usually went barefoot since the Munchkins had yet to develop shoes the size of one of their small boats. Over his back was slung a large bag full of his father's and his coworkers' lunches. In other words, ham sandwiches and beer. His father had dreamily spoken of having cup holders installed on Bob, but the estimates had been too high, and he had let the whole thing go.

The walk to the cornfields wasn't a long one, and Bob had arrived in no time.

"Hey, it's Byoh--It's your kid, Shecklep!" said one of the workers when they saw Bob coming.

"That would be him," sniffed Shecklep. His son was rather a touchy subject with him.

"He's hard to miss," another worker said, "He's taller than my wife's list of things I do that annoy her."

Shecklep grunted. "Get over here boy. Those lunches aren't going to serve themselves."

Bob meekly agreed and he handed out the sandwiches and beer. Once this was accomplished, Bob sat on the dirt, his day's work finished. He watched as his father and his father's friends 'picked corn.' Actually, a better description would be, 'read naughty magazines and made dirty jokes.'

Bob soon got bored and began to hum to himself. Before he knew it, he was full-out singing.

"Beer and ham sandwiches! Ham sandwiches and beer! Sandwiches and ham beer! Beer sandwiches and ham! Oh, I've got a lovely bunch of ham sandwiches-n-beer! De-dil-e-de. There they are all being di-gested! Some with mayonnaise, some on rye bread, and one with…EXTRA HAM!" he sang to a tune that varied as he went along.

"Stop killing that cat!" yelled one of the workers, turning to see what Bob could possibly be doing to the animal to make it make such noise.

Bob gave him a blank expression.

"Oh. I mean, stop using your voice as an instrument of terror."

"Ah," Bob said, "So you liked it then?"

"I, um, well, I, you must understand, that I--Oh look! Time to go home already. Bye fellows!" the man took off.

"My musical triumph must have been too much for him," Bob said quietly.

"Yes, he's right," Shecklep said.

Bob looked up hopefully.

"It is time to go home."

Bob looked back down.

With Shecklep leading the way, they made their way back to their small home. Technically, by Munchkin Standards, it was fairly large, but by Bob Standards, it wasn't. On the way, they passed over Munchkinland's biggest landmark: the beginning of the Yellow Brick Road. Although, in fact, it was rather overdone and much too expensive. Shecklep often grumbled that they had wasted time and effort by adding in that curlicue that made people feel slightly dizzy if they looked at it too long. Bob just thought it was rather pretty.

But what was this? He had never noticed that there was _another_ road intertwined with the Yellow Brick Road. This other one was red and after curling around the Yellow, it seemed to go off in the opposite direction. Bob couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before, but then again, in all fairness, he wasn't as close to the ground as most people living here.

"Father?" he asked.

"Hrumph?" his father gave as what he believed as a perfectly acceptable answer.

"Where does that red road go?"

"It leads to…HORRORS BEYOND IMAGINATION!" his father yelled.


	2. You're a Witch!

A tale of epic proportions, (if only because the hero is tall) stunning feats of bravery, (even though they were edited out) dazzling special effects (even though they aren't, because, you know, this is a story, and it is difficult to incorporate special effects into print) and beautiful women. (even though they are virtually non-existent)

Here is Chapter Two. I do hope someone is reading this, but if you would post a review, (that was a hint!) I'd love you forever. Anyway, Chapter Two is just as full of random silliness as Chapter One. I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Oz. Nope.

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"What?" Bob asked curiously.

"I said…HORRORS BEYOND THE IMAGINATION!"

"Ah. That's what I thought you said."

When they had reached the house, Bob asked the same question of his mother.

"It leads to…HORRORS BEYOND IMAGINATION!" she bellowed in his face.

He scratched his head. "What do you mean?"

"Go outside and play with dirt or something."

Bob complied and ducked (quite literally since the doorframe was a good deal shorter than him) back into the sunlight. He saw that the neighbor Munchkin was sitting on his steps looking rather dejected. Bob wandered over.

"Howdy," he said with a grin.

The neighbor Munchkin merely sighed.

"What's the matter?" Bob asked.

"My wife asked if her new dress made her look fat, and I answered truthfully."

"Tsk, tsk, that wasn't very clever."

The neighbor Munchkin glared and looked away.

"So…um…" Bob said, "Do you know where the Red Brick Road goes?"

"It leads to…HORRORS BEYOND IMAGINATION!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that!"

"I dunno. They gave out pamphlets a few years back that said that we had to say that when ever someone asked that question," the neighbor Munchkin said.

"Why didn't I get one?" Bob inquired.

"They probably figured that you had never even noticed the Red Brick Road since you are so tall," the neighbor Munchkin said, looking up at him.

"Ahem. Of course I have! Do you think I'm blind?" Bob said, "I've known it was there since…well, not since today if that's what you're thinking!"

"I wasn't…?"

"Good! Let's keep it that way!" Bob said angrily.

Although Bob wasn't necessarily a scary guy, when he is almost three feet taller than you, it can be a bit intimidating. "Meep," was all the terrified Munchkin could say.

"Now, what was I doing again?" Bob asked thin air since the Munchkin had run away. "Oh yes, I was going to go work on world peace….No, that wasn't it. That's just silly. Oh yeah, I was going to play with dirt."

Bob short attention span kicked in momentarily and he decided that he should just go on the Red Brick Road to discover where it led.

"Mommy!" he called into his house.

"What do you want?"

"I'm going on a trip. I probably won't be back for some weeks."

"Have a good tri--Oh wait, that was almost nice, I meant to say, 'Good riddance!'"

With that matter cleared up, Bob made his way to the beginning of the two roads. Starting on the tip of the curlicue since that was the way of things, and since it gave him that delightful dizzy feeling, he started his walk, taking special care to add a skip to his step. Before he had gotten three feet, there was a puff of smoke over to his right. He stopped mid-skip and gaped at the plume of bright yellow smoke. He heard a cough.

"Be warned, Cloud of Yellow Smoke! You may have the ability to cough, but I am armed with pepper spray!" Bob yelled in what he hoped was a voice that was shaking less than he was.

There was another cough and the smoke drifted away, leaving a disgruntled looking woman.

"Bloody cornfields! Is that how Clouds like yourself reproduce? I think the father must have been a human because that thing doesn't resemble _you_ at all!" Bob yelled at the retreating smoke.

"Huh?" the woman asked.

"Never mind, you can't help the morality of your parents."

"Erm…ok?" the woman said uncertainly.

He took his first real look of her. She looked to be about his age, but she had no arms. She was a normal height for most humans, that is, too tall to be a Munchkin. She had dark hair put in a bun that looked in need of a good washing. She was wearing a black dress that came to her knees and she had on hideous black and white striped stockings with red heels that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Shiny!" he gasped, entranced by the glittering shoes.

"Um, yeah."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, working hard to pull his eyes from the shiny beauty.

"I lost my coffee mug. I thought maybe I had left it here."

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Well…no. But it could still be here, couldn't it?" she said as if pointing out the obvious.

"I suppose," he agreed, "But where did you get your fashion advice? You look awful!"

"I resent that. My father made me these shoes, and I acquired these stockings from a sale at Oz-Mart! The dress, well, I've had it a while."

"Still, the ensemble is…lacking. So…was it a special coffee mug?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I had it customized for two cents per letter. It said 'Wicked Witch of the East' in cute little black letters," she said with a sigh.

"Wait, I think I'm supposed to have a revelation here. What did the coffee mug say again?"

"'Wicked Witch of the East' in cute little black letters?" she said hesitantly.

"Aha! You like cute little black letters, do you?" he said triumphantly.

"Well, yes, but I think you were supposed to gather that I am a witch…"

"You're a witch! Burn her...uh, burn you!" he cried.

"No, no, no! Don't do that!" she cried back.

"Well…ok. I won't. Besides, I have no matches. So, what do we do now?"

"Um, I guess I'll just stand here, on this exact spot, and stare into space, since there is absolutely no chance of anything falling on me," she said confidently.

"Wait, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the sky.

She looked up. "Nothing, I'm sure. Probably just a very pregnant bird."

"Well, maybe you should move. It might be pregnant on you," he said in a concerned voice.

"No, there's no chance of anything hitting me. I'll just stay put," she said.

"Well, if you insist," he said, backing up slowly as the 'pregnant bird' got closer and closer.

The Witch examined her nails. Well, she would have if she had nails. Or hands. Or arms.

The 'pregnant bird' came closer and closer. It seemed to Bob that it was either a very boxy pregnant bird or a farmhouse.

Then came a noise much like the squashing of an armless bug in striped stockings and shiny red shoes.


	3. The Arrival of a Bubble

Chapter Three has arrived! Please read and review! Let me repeat: please **_read_** AND **_review_**!

**Disclaimer:** Sorry, I still don't own Oz, Dorothy, Glinda, Nessa, or the Munchkins. Of course, I do own Bob since I made him up and all.

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"Gasp!" gasped Bob.

As one, all the Munchkins in Munchkinland stepped from their houses. Bob figured they had heard the commotion and wanted to see if there was anyone to point at, laugh at, or possibly, both. Oddly, they were all dressed in what appeared to be their Halloween costumes. Three Munchkin girls were even in tutus. They assembled in front of the farmhouse that was now a part of the landscape and peered at what was hanging out from under it. All that could be seen of the Witch was from the shin down.

"Who was she?" asked one of the Munchkins, gesturing to the feet.

"Who cares?" another Munchkin replied, "Anyone with stockings like those deserve to die!"

"Well, since Munchkins enjoy stereotypes, which is a stereotype in itself, I think we should assume that she was a witch!"

"Yes! After all, witches are old and ugly."

"She did say she was a witch," Bob said.

"Well, there you go then, our stereotypes never fail us!"

Suddenly, the doorknob on the farmhouse began to turn.

Every last Munchkin (except Bob) catapulted into some bushes that looked suspiciously to be made of plastic. Being so short and defenseless, Munchkins had evolved a great reaction time. Bob, however, a bit slow in every aspect, didn't move.

The farmhouse door opened and a young girl wearing a dress that appeared to have been made from a blue picnic blanket stepped out. Her dark hair was in braids and a small, rather nasty little dog yipped from her ankles.

"Oh my God," she breathed, "Toto, I think that I should say something terribly cliché about how we aren't in Kansas anymore, but look! This place has _color_! I've spent all my life being in black and white, and I didn't even know what color this dress is. I wear it every day! Now, I can rejoice in its blueness, although how I know that it is blue when I've never seen, or even heard of color, I've no idea."

About this time, she turned around and saw Bob. He had finally tried to hide, but the plastic daisy he was crouching behind only hid his nose.

"Hallo!" she said brightly.

"You can't see me!" he yelled, hiding his eyes behind his hands.

"Er…well, could you maybe tell me where I am?"

"Oh, certainly," he said, straightening up. "You are in Oz...Well, Munchkinland to be exact."

"What's an Oz?"

He scratched his chin. "Y'know, they never really told me."

"Hey, what's that up there?" she asked, pointing heavenward dramatically.

"Oh by the Unnamed God, not another pregnant bird!" he cried.

"No, it's more like an enormous bubble."

"Hehe. 'Bubble.' That's a funny word," he giggled.

The enormous bubble, for indeed that was what it was, drifted closer. However, it appeared to be fighting against the wind, making its approach very slow.

"This could take a while," said Bob.

Alas, he had chosen this time of all others to be right, and the bubble continued on…very…slowly. Much foot tapping and pacing ensued.

By the time it at last had arrived, Bob had managed to fall asleep. When the bubble popped gigantically, he woke immediately.

"Whatsamatter?" he asked stupidly. He looked up to see a woman, all in pink, a silver wand in hand, who looked rather irritated. Her puffy gown was soaked with bubble fluid, (you know, that nasty soapy stuff that you blow into to make bubbles) and she was panting slightly.

"Those bubbles are a pain in the wand!" she said angrily, "They're almost impossible to steer! I though I would just drop by since I found Nessa's, or as she's taken to calling herself lately, the _Wicked Witch of the East_'s coffee mug. Who would've known it would be so difficult to get here?"

The girl in the blue picnic blanket just stared at the woman who was talking to herself.

The woman turned around a few seconds later and saw the girl standing with her mouth agape.

"You're rather tall for a Munchkin," the puffy pink woman pointed out.

The girl continued to stare.

"Don't stare! It makes me paranoid."

The girl continued to stare.

"Well, have you seen Ness--I mean, the _Wicked Witch of the East_?"

The girl continued to stare.

"I think I have, your Puffiness," Bob spoke up.

"Well, where is she?"

"Under the house," Bob said.

"Munchkins have cellars?" the woman asked.

"Well…not exactly," he admitted. He gestured to the farmhouse.

"That's a funny looking house, why are you--SWEET OZ! THOSE ARE NESS--THE _WICKED WITCH OF THE EAST_'S SHOES AND HIDEOUS STOCKINGS!"

"Yes," Bob agreed calmly.

"Ness--I mean _Wicked Witch of the East_! Get out from under that house!"

"I don't think she can," Bob said.

"But why?" the woman asked.

"Well, you remember the puppy that you undoubtedly had when you were little?"

"Yes…but I don't see where you're going with this--"

"Remember how it 'ran away?'"

"Yes…but I still don't see where you're going with th--"

"It didn't really run away."

"Whaddayou mean?" she asked.

"It got hit by a carriage," he told her.

"Argh! Fluffy!" she cried, "But, I _still _don't see where you're going with this."

"The same thing happened to the Wicked Witch of the East."

"She got hit by a carriage?"

"Well, no, but she did get hit by a pregnant bir--Er, a farmhouse," he said.

"So she's…?" the woman asked barely breathing.

"Dead, yes," he said rather insensitively.

"WAHHH! WHO'S HOUSE IS THAT?" the woman yelled.

"Mine, I think," the girl piped up.

"You killed Ness--the _Wicked Witch of the East_!"

"Not purposefully."

"Well, I'll forgive you. She was starting to get on my nerves anyway. So, are you a good witch or a bad witch? And, I'm Glinda, by the way."

"I'm Dorothy Gale, and I'm not a witch. I'm just the young girl character that everyone is supposed to love even though I am faintly annoying at times. Besides, witches are old and ugly."

Behind the plastic rhododendron, the Munchkins giggled.

"I told you stereotypes never fail," one of them whispered, "That's ironic, that is."

"AHHH! LAUGHING BUSHES!" Dorothy screamed.

"No, no, that's just the Munchkins. And not all witches are old and ugly. In fact, _I'm_ a witch," Glinda struck a pose.

"Are you saying that you _aren't_ old and ugly?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes! I'm beautiful! Don't you think so?"

"Is this a trick question?"

"Never mind," Glinda huffed, then she said in a stage whisper, "Now, how can I get rid of her?"

"I heard that, you know! And you can get rid of me by telling me how to get home," Dorothy said.

"Well, how about you go see the Wizard? Just follow the yellow. Not too difficult," Glinda said.

"But, I don't look like someone from here! Everyone will stare at me!"

"Ok, ok, um…how about you take the shiny shoes?" Glinda asked.

"Shiny!" Dorothy and Bob said together.

"Ok, I'll take the shoes," Dorothy agreed.


	4. Follow the Yellow Brick Road!

"Does this seem somewhat wrong to anyone but me?" Bob asked as he watched Dorothy pry the shoes from the dead Witch's feet.

"How do you mean?" asked Glinda.

"Well, morally, I guess. Probably grammatically too, though, because this writer isn't very smart," Bob answered.

"Hey now, don't make fun of the author!" Glinda said defensively.

"But…she's writing what we say right now. So, you could argue that she is quite insane. She is, after all, talking about herself. Plus, she just made me sound a lot smarter than I usually do. I rather resent that."

"This is true."

"These aren't very comfortable shoes," Dorothy commented from beside the farmhouse.

"Oh, get over it," Glinda said.

"You're a meanie," Dorothy said, sticking her tongue out at her.

"Ok," Glinda said, firing up, "Just for that, I shall now use my magicks to fix them eternally to your feet!"

"Gasp!" Dorothy cried, "But they are much too dressy for most outfits, and they don't even match this dress!" At least in black and white world, it didn't matter much if my tones clashed."

"Ha! I have reduced you to an everlasting fashion disaster!" Glinda laughed hysterically.

Suddenly, a large cloud of orange smoke erupted close to the farmhouse. It was very similar to the yellow cloud of smoke that had signaled Ness--the _Wicked Witch of the East_'s arrival, except for, you know, it wasn't yellow. Many Munchkins fell down, dazed, even though the smoke hadn't come remotely close to them. The smoke cleared to reveal a green woman in a black witch hat and cape. She clutched a raggedy broom in her emerald hands.

"Woe is me!" cried an overdramatic Munchkin. "My last sight of this earth will be of an overgrown cabbage-woman!"

"Spare me," sniffed the woman, "I'm just here to say hello to my sister."

"Erm, she isn't here, Elphaba. I think she went, um, over there. Yeah, over there. That's the way she went," said Glinda, pointing in a random direction.

"Glinda! Hi old buddy, old pal!" Elphaba squealed.

"Hi."

"I was just thinking about you the other day, and--Wait! Why's that girl wearing Ness-the _Wicked Witch of the East_'s shoes?" Elphaba asked angrily.

"She, uh, found a pair just like Ness--the _Wicked Witch of the East_'s on sale at the shoe store?" Glinda said.

"Oh. Ok. Well, they look good on you, dear, even though they don't really match--But why are Ness-the _Wicked Witch of the East_'s shoeless legs hanging out from under that house?!" howled Elphaba.

"Elphaba, she, uh, well, she got hit by a carriage," Glinda told her.

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Bob, "A pregnant bird landed on her head."

"Ness--the _Wicked Witch of the East_!" shouted Elphaba, "Well, I'll get over it. Ha, now I can have her shoes!" She walked to legs.

"Where'd they go?" she asked.

Dorothy desperately tried to hide her feet.

"You stole her shoes! Which means, you stole MY shoes!"

"I didn't know! I'm sorry!"

"I'll get you my pretty--"

"Here I am!" Glinda cried.

Elphaba groaned. "Well, I _will_ get those shoes!" she reached for Dorothy's feet but was repulsed by Glinda's magicks.

"Drat! I must go plot my vengeance!" she disappeared in another cloud of orange smoke.

"Today is NOT my day!" Dorothy yelled.

"You'll live. Now, go somewhere that is less inhabited by _me_," Glinda said, "Actually, it'd probably be more convenient if I just leave. Which I will be doing right now. Any second now. I think. Just a few more moments….Darn it! Bubble, that was your cue!"

The large pink bubble popped back into existence, (something science has yet to explain) and Glinda climbed in without popping it. (another scientific mystery)

The Munchkins, for reasons of their own, decided to take this moment to develop love for other living creatures and waved at Glinda's retreating bubble.

"Well, what do I do now?" Dorothy asked.

"Ooh! Ooh! I know!" Bob said, raising his hand and jumping up and down.

"Yes? What do you have to say, Tall One in the Front?" Dorothy asked.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road!"

"What's that?"

"You know, that road over there…? It's made of yellow brick?" said one of the Munchkins.

"You don't say! I never could have guessed," Dorothy said sincerely.

"Well, maybe you should go walk on it."

"I might hurt its feelings!" Dorothy cried.

"No, no, you won't!" said the Munchkin, "In fact…uh…it _likes_ being walked on! Yeah, that's it!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" chorused all the Munchkins as one.

"Well, ok, then," Dorothy started for the road. She tried to start walking down the Red Brick Road.

"No, no! The _yellow_ one," Bob said slowly.

"I'm sorry, ok? I'm new to this color thing," she repositioned herself on the yellow road and started to walk.

"You're doing it all wrong!"

"What is it now?"

"You have to start on the curlicue. It's a law. Besides, you have to skip as well," Bob said patiently.

"Why?"

"So we can waste some time singing."

"Oh. That makes sense," Dorothy said. She adopted a much more peppy attitude and started skipping.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road!" a Munchkin told her.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road!" another said.

"Follow the Purpl--Yellow Brick Road!" said one of the color-blind Munchkins.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road!" they all sung together.

"OK! I get it!" Dorothy yelled and skipped down the road as fast as her feet would carry her, dog barking at her heels.


	5. A Quest, Or At Least a Short Walk

**So, I finally finished it! Wh00t. I hope someone is still interested in reading it, and that they will have the heart to review it...:D**

**Disclaimer:** Thank goodness for not needing to own something to make fun of it.

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"Well, now that she's gone..." Bob said to himself.

"Are you going to follow the yellow brick road, too?" asked an eavesdropping Munchkin.

"Nope. I'm going to follow that red one instead!"

"But!" the Munchkin exclaimed.

"Yes?"

"That leads to!"

"What?"

"HORRORS BEYOND THE IMA--"

"Yeah, yeah, 'horrors beyond the imagination.' I know, I know," Bob interrupted, "And I'm still going." He headed for the curlicue of the red road, "Here I go!" He paused, waiting for someone to shout for him not to do it, that it was too dangerous, that they would miss him. But no one said anything, "Alright then, I'm really going now."

A cricket chirped.

"Bye?" he asked and started walking. To his surprise, no one even told him that he needed to skip. He just kept walking and didn't look back once.

"He's gonna die," said one of the Munchkins in the crowd he left behind.

"Yep."

The happy, bright cornfields on either side of the road had lasted just up until Bob had gotten out of sight of Munchkinland, and now the red road led into the depths of a dark forest. Bob walked into this forest hesitantly, remembering the tales he had been told of the lions, tigers, bears, and auditors that lived in the forests of Oz.

To keep his fear at bay, he sang a little song to himself. Only a few steps later, he heard footsteps in the darkness beside him and he froze. He slowly bent down, picked up a rock, and hurled it into the shadows. A voice exclaimed in pain and muttered something about shoddy financial records before shuffling away.

Bob grinned at his muscles and informed the forest in general, "Never mess with a Munchkin."

Just as Bob had gotten his confidence back, a very familiar orange cloud of smoke erupted in front of him.

"I'll get you my prett--!" the cloud started to exclaim before having a violent coughing fit. "Stupid smoke," it continued as the smoke blew away, leaving the green woman Bob had met earlier. She cleared her throat. "As I was saying. I'll get you my pretty!"

Bob leaped into the air. "You really think I'm pretty?!"

"Oh. Well. Sure. But. I thought you were someone else," the lady told him. "Do you happen to know where that stupid little girl with the shiny shoes went?"

Bob's face lit up in the memory of the shiny. "She went that way," he said, gesturing over his shoulder, "On the _Yellow_ Brick Road."

The green witch looked down. "Oh, darn. Wrong road." She looked at Bob. "So, where ya headin'?"

"I'm just going to walk until the red runs out."

"Ooh, that'll bring you right out to HORRORS BEYOND THE IMAGINATION!"

Bob rubbed his head. "Yeah, I've heard."

An awkward silence ensued in which both parties stared at each other and the crickets had a field day.

"So..." the green lady said, "I'll just be going to get my shoes. See you." And she disappeared in another puff of smoke--

--and reappeared in an identical puff of smoke about ten feet behind him. She caught sight of Bob and the road and stamped her feet. "I have got to get the hang of this spell!" she shouted and disappeared again, this time more successfully since Bob could no longer see her.

He continued along his way, this time skipping for good measure.

After a couple of miles, Bob began to notice that the road was becoming increasingly less wide. In fact, it was now so thin that whoever was walking on it had to travel in single-file in order to stay on the bricks.

Bob was so occupied with noticing this that he didn't look in front of him until he ran into a pair of iron doors.

"Ouch," he said to himself and backed up to see what he had hit. In front of him stood an imposing building with iron doors (that he had run into) right in the middle of the whole façade. Every few feet or so, sharp iron spikes stuck out from the walls, and a sign above the doors said in red letters "HORRORS BEYOND THE IMAGINATION!". In fact, the red was the precise shade of blood.

Bob gulped.

"ENTER," said a deep, disembodied voice.

Bob gulped even louder and tried to hum to himself.

The voice sighed. "I said 'ENTER'."

Bob took a deep breath and pulled the doors open.

He stepped inside. Something was very wrong here. In front of him was what appeared to be a small, out-of-the-way diner. A bored looking lady smacked on gum behind the counter, and a janitor was cleaning the tile floor.

"Welcome to the HORRORS BEYOND THE IMAGINATION! Sandwich Shop. Can I getcha somethin', hun?" she asked.

Bob approached the counter. He could see all kinds of breads in an oven behind the lady, and all kinds of sandwich fixings in front of her. He noticed a pile of pamphlets advertising the sandwich shop by the cash register.

"Yeah," he said, "I'll have a ham sandwich and a beer, please."

**THE END**


End file.
